I'm a prospective adoptive parent (currently on the wait list) and a quasi-adoptee. I say quasi because my biological father abandoned us after he and my mother divorced when I was 4 or 5 and when I was in high school my stepfather adopted me and my brother. I identified with many of the issues in the book because of the way my mother treated the situation we had been put in. It also raised a lot of questions for me about how much of the behavior is due to adoption and how much of it is plain old growing up issues since I always had my biological mother.
What signs did you see in your child or yourself, that support the concept of a primal wound derived from separation of mother and child in the process of adoption?
Since I don't have children yet, I'd like to answer this from a different perspective. I'm not sure that the primal wound is solely from separation of the mother. While the separation from the mother can be pointed to in most cases, in our case it was separation from the father, and subsequent behavior of our mother that caused issues. In the journey of the adoption process and in reading this book, I've had to think hard and come to grips with the family dynamics. At one time or another, I've exhibited many of the signs outlined in the book, mostly in the area of being compliant. I was always the "good" one, good in school, polite and quiet. I went to the college my mom wanted me to, I'm in the profession she wants me in. I hate math yet I'm an engineer: the compliance was a little extreme in my case. That's the outside and on the inside I struggled with a lot of rage that typically surfaced in a blow-out temper tantrum, especially in high school and the first years of college. If I ever brought up my biological father my mother would shut me down so fast that at an early age I learned that asking anything about him was "bad". We were supposed to pretend like we were one big happy family and that my stepfather was my "real dad". That only worked until my parents had children and my half brothers don't look anything like me and my brother. My parents ignored the obvious, continued pretending, and continued not talking about it. I get along ok with my mother but have come to realize that I keep her at arms length emotionally and I've always strived to be independent of my parents. I hope that I can read the signs in my own child and instead of ignoring them, because that obviously doesn't work, help them work through the issues.
As a birthmother I was drawn to Chapter 10 and the discussion of the 'Cardinal Rules for Adoptive Parents.' I think if my role had been reversed and I was an adoptive mother, as much as my former birthmother self would like to be recognized, I do not think that I would consciously do this. I would be honest with questions about the birthmother and compassionate, but in my mother role I would try to emmulate everything that a good mother is for her child....and this would not be taking anyones place. I am his mother. I would ask both adoptive mothers and birthmothers what their thoughts are on this.
I don't know how I feel about the Cardinal Rules. I think I read them a bit differently in that I would always have to remind myself that I can't take the place of the birthmother completely. But, I'd still try to fulfill the role of a good mother. If I didn't want to raise children to the best of my ability, I wouldn't be going through this conscious, difficult process to build my family.
What was the hardest part of Verrier's Primal Wound for you to accept? What is the basis for your resistance to the argument? Personal experience? Generalization? Your perspective based on the side of the triad with which you most readily identify (knowing that some of us may fall into more than one "side")?
The hardest part of the book for me to accept is the feeling it left me with that I'll never be "good enough" as a mother because I didn't carry my child. That being said, some of that feeling is my own problems/issues arising because I've spent my whole life trying to be "good enough".
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Showing posts with label Primal wound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Primal wound. Show all posts
Monday, December 14, 2009
Lora: The Primal Wound
I am a 50+ year old adoptee, I had read Coming Home to Self , Nancy's second book,
but had not read the Primal Wound. This is the first time I have read it and I was surprised at how much I could relate to it. After years of feeling alone and hiding so that people would not see how bad I was deep down, its so validating to read that I am not alone in my feelings.
Here are the questions I chose to answer.
What signs did you see in yourself, that support the concept of a primal wound derived from separation of mother and child in the process of adoption?
In counseling about 8 years ago I was dealing with shame and feeling like I was bad, I brought up being too bad for my mother to keep and being given away.
My counselor was not that familiar with adoption and kept saying... you should have no memories of being given away, how could it have affected you. I had not done any reading about adoption and could not answer.
There are a great deal of behavioral issues that Verrier attributes to the Primal Wound of being separated from ones birthmother and subsequently adopted. These range from acting out and testing the adoptive parents, to becoming detached, to future inabilities to maintain healthy relationships as an adult. To the adoptees, I'm curious if you identified with any of these traits and to the adoptive parents, if you witnessed any of them in your child(ren)? Further, if you answered "yes", do you think your adoptive parents would agree that you have these traits as well?
I was the complacent adoptee in counterpart to my brother the acting out adoptee. We fit the theory perfectly. He was constantly in trouble, while I strived to be the "good girl." I always felt not good enough and afraid of causing trouble. I became a chameleon , someone who could unobtrusively fit in with any group. I became so adept at hiding my feelings that I no longer knew what they were. I would not have called it detached, I just concealed my real self because I was not good enough, so that no one ever knew me. Because of course if they ever knew the real me, the one even my mother could not love, they would surely reject me as she had done.
The funny thing is, if you had asked my parents, I think they would have told you I was a happy well-adjusted person. It was not until they were both deceased that I was able to understand and examine my true feelings and fears. My mother noticed that we were not close, I know I did not like to share information with her and she knew that, and once I graduated from college I moved far away. For me it was a self preservation mode of rejecting or leaving before I could be left
How can "life-triggers" help and hinder an adoptee's healing journey, and what are some suggestions to help them keep walking forward to wholeness?"
What was the hardest part of Verrier's Primal Wound for you to accept? What is the basis for your resistance to the argument? Personal experience? Generalization? Your perspective based on the side of the triad with which you most readily identify (knowing that some of us may fall into more than one "side")?
I managed to keep my feelings tightly controlled and hidden from all including myself until I got breast ca at the age of 40. Every time I saw a MD they asked me about my family history.
That was the beginning of a series of events that shocked me into some degree of self awareness. My a mother and a father had passed away and my marriage fell apart. Finally I considered counseling instead of insisting I was OK. While I began to examine my abuse at the hands of my a brother,which I also had denied, and to see why I was so stuck in a marriage that was no good for me, I kept coming back to the shame and feeling not good enough that is at my core values about myself. With her help in dealing with abuse, and my reading about adoption I feel I can intellectually understand some of my feelings, but I have not resolved them.
It seems a life long pursuit to try and feel whole and accepting of myself, and I am not sure I will ever get there. My natural mother after 2 letters declines further contact. She did tell me some of my family health history, but it seems so unreal, I still usually just write adopted on my medical paperwork.
The thing I was most resistive to was accepting that my adoptive mothers coldness and distance may have been in reaction to my inability to bond and trust with her. It hurts that I may have been rejecting of her, and felt it was a rejection of me. It feels frustrating and so set up to fail that there is not more information given to adoptive parents. That they are not aware of how to help a child to understand and heal. That like a wedding everyone seems so focused on the big event, but so little is put into the lifetime of support, healing and needs of an adopted child.
Why are counselors so untrained in treating adopted adults? Why aren't there more stories of the risks of adopting a child and the lifelong needs they present? Is it because there is still an unacknowledged stigma about being an unwanted child? Why do people still think love is enough or that God calls them to adopt and that is all there is to it? It seems that just now, many years after this book was published there is some degree of increased understanding for those who wish to educate themselves. But many adoptions are still closed, most records still blocked and many still seem to think a baby is a blank slate to be molded into a family.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
but had not read the Primal Wound. This is the first time I have read it and I was surprised at how much I could relate to it. After years of feeling alone and hiding so that people would not see how bad I was deep down, its so validating to read that I am not alone in my feelings.
Here are the questions I chose to answer.
What signs did you see in yourself, that support the concept of a primal wound derived from separation of mother and child in the process of adoption?
In counseling about 8 years ago I was dealing with shame and feeling like I was bad, I brought up being too bad for my mother to keep and being given away.
My counselor was not that familiar with adoption and kept saying... you should have no memories of being given away, how could it have affected you. I had not done any reading about adoption and could not answer.
There are a great deal of behavioral issues that Verrier attributes to the Primal Wound of being separated from ones birthmother and subsequently adopted. These range from acting out and testing the adoptive parents, to becoming detached, to future inabilities to maintain healthy relationships as an adult. To the adoptees, I'm curious if you identified with any of these traits and to the adoptive parents, if you witnessed any of them in your child(ren)? Further, if you answered "yes", do you think your adoptive parents would agree that you have these traits as well?
I was the complacent adoptee in counterpart to my brother the acting out adoptee. We fit the theory perfectly. He was constantly in trouble, while I strived to be the "good girl." I always felt not good enough and afraid of causing trouble. I became a chameleon , someone who could unobtrusively fit in with any group. I became so adept at hiding my feelings that I no longer knew what they were. I would not have called it detached, I just concealed my real self because I was not good enough, so that no one ever knew me. Because of course if they ever knew the real me, the one even my mother could not love, they would surely reject me as she had done.
The funny thing is, if you had asked my parents, I think they would have told you I was a happy well-adjusted person. It was not until they were both deceased that I was able to understand and examine my true feelings and fears. My mother noticed that we were not close, I know I did not like to share information with her and she knew that, and once I graduated from college I moved far away. For me it was a self preservation mode of rejecting or leaving before I could be left
How can "life-triggers" help and hinder an adoptee's healing journey, and what are some suggestions to help them keep walking forward to wholeness?"
What was the hardest part of Verrier's Primal Wound for you to accept? What is the basis for your resistance to the argument? Personal experience? Generalization? Your perspective based on the side of the triad with which you most readily identify (knowing that some of us may fall into more than one "side")?
That was the beginning of a series of events that shocked me into some degree of self awareness. My a mother and a father had passed away and my marriage fell apart. Finally I considered counseling instead of insisting I was OK. While I began to examine my abuse at the hands of my a brother,which I also had denied, and to see why I was so stuck in a marriage that was no good for me, I kept coming back to the shame and feeling not good enough that is at my core values about myself. With her help in dealing with abuse, and my reading about adoption I feel I can intellectually understand some of my feelings, but I have not resolved them.
It seems a life long pursuit to try and feel whole and accepting of myself, and I am not sure I will ever get there. My natural mother after 2 letters declines further contact. She did tell me some of my family health history, but it seems so unreal, I still usually just write adopted on my medical paperwork.
The thing I was most resistive to was accepting that my adoptive mothers coldness and distance may have been in reaction to my inability to bond and trust with her. It hurts that I may have been rejecting of her, and felt it was a rejection of me. It feels frustrating and so set up to fail that there is not more information given to adoptive parents. That they are not aware of how to help a child to understand and heal. That like a wedding everyone seems so focused on the big event, but so little is put into the lifetime of support, healing and needs of an adopted child.
Why are counselors so untrained in treating adopted adults? Why aren't there more stories of the risks of adopting a child and the lifelong needs they present? Is it because there is still an unacknowledged stigma about being an unwanted child? Why do people still think love is enough or that God calls them to adopt and that is all there is to it? It seems that just now, many years after this book was published there is some degree of increased understanding for those who wish to educate themselves. But many adoptions are still closed, most records still blocked and many still seem to think a baby is a blank slate to be molded into a family.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Alice: The Primal Wound
# 1
I would describe my experiences in terms of pregnancy and motherhood post relinguishment 43 years ago as the tragedy of my life. After getting married within a few years ( to a different man than the father of my baby ) I remember very clearly crying episodically about the loss and persistent pain of 'losing ' my baby . My spouse said " Well, we could have a baby " . I responded " No, I don't want another baby ; I want the one I gave up ." It was as if no other would do .
Nevertheless over the next 20 years I lost several children through early miscarriages. Three of these miscarriages involved a 2nd marriage to a man with 4 children whom I mothered from early adolescence and continue to do so to this day . They all were troubled children who became emotionallly troubled adults . I put a lot of work into being a caring step-mother to these needy children and was glad to do so. I have wondered at times if at some unconcious level I was doing so because it was a way of ' making up ' for the wrong I had done by ' abandoning my baby '.
I see the fact of my not having any other viable biological children as a " self-fulfilling prophecy " because I believed that God would not allow me to have other children because of the severe wrong I had done.
In conclusion , despite having a productive and fullfilling life I have carried a low-level depression since giving my child up and continue to long to hold that infant baby .
#2
Concerning the question about the statement " Under no circumstances should a birthmother search if there is any possiblity at all that she might abandon her child again " cause you not to search for your child . Absolutely not !
In fact I've been looking for my adult child ( what a misnomer ) for 25 years and have considered the circumstances that might lead me to reject my adult son again . Through these long years I have actively worked with my grief,and educated myself concerning the impact of adoption on members of the triad .I progressed from a long held belief that I would never reject him again because I owed him everything to realizing that in reality there could be no guarentee to this.
I recently located my son who is a very troubled adult . In fact he appears to fit excatly the picture of Verrier's " compliant " adoptee . I am very committed to the process of trying to establish a healthy relationship with him but recognise full well that there is no guarentee regarding the ultimate outcome. I am willing to go through the storms , take some hits ( already have actually ) and suffer in hopes of facilitating an eventuall healing and more hopefulll life for him . However I also recognize that it is also up to him and the choices he makes over time .
#3
My response as a birth mother to Nancy Verrier's book " Primal Wound..." follows :
I have purchased 3 copies of this book over the last 15 years and have been unable to read it till just recently , ie after finding my son.
I had read several excerpts and reviews through the years but could not face my own painful reponses to her apparent truths. Now that I have experienced some of them directly post reunion I am reading her work to better prepare myself to be an understanding , caring, accepting and hopefully unconditionally loving birth mother to my son .
I do not think that Nancy Verrier's ( though well intentioned ) admonition to not search for your child if there is any possibility that you could reject your abandoned child again is reasonable. As the questioner suggests , there are no quarentees in life . One cannot control the future .
.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Nicole J Burton: The Primal Wound
Verrier offers some opinions on healing, such as language, reunion, and empowerment. Did you find her advice useful? If you have participated in any of the techniques, what was your experience like?
Reunion, for me, has been great for healing. Vital. Renaming myself and changing the terms I use in reference to adoption is also important. Therapy, with a licensed social worker familiar with adoption issues, was also critical to my sanity. I had so many wounds, from the original separation from my mother and from my adoptive mother's alcoholism. I also believe adopted people need to develop spiritual solutions for long-term happiness (more about that below).
I tried to read Verrier's book several times but it was so painful, I couldn't finish it. This time, I doggedly ploughed through, though it was like watching a video of my own open heart surgery!
I tried the technique of remembering and mourning that she discusses in the second part of the book, recovering from the primal wound, but I confess I did it wrong and it sent me into a tailspin of misery such as I've not felt in years. Of course, I didn't just walk back through one trauma, I revisited a whole bunch of them, and didn't do the ritual burning part of the mourning. I'm not likely to repeat that exercise again; it was painful.
My problem isn't that I can't remember; my problem, when I'm stuck in it, is that I remember too well exactly what it felt like when my mother left. And it's not just our mothers. At that moment of surrender, we lose both parents, all our grandparents, our uncles and aunts, our cousins, our ancestors, our siblings and siblings-to-be, our pets, our family friends, perhaps even our country, our language, our culture, and our religion. It's a veritable wasteland and yeah, I remember! It's a big hurt and it requires a big loving power, bigger than my self awareness, to heal me. The good news is that such a power can grow in all our hearts.
On the premise of open adoption and the book, The Primal Wound, how can adoptive parents and first parents work together to help their children through the separation and loss. Is merely acknowledging it enough or are there other important steps both sides can take to create an environment for a child to have a better understanding of some of the issues they may face through adoption?
My hat's off to adoptive parents; it's not an easy road. One of the most warming memories I have of my adoptive mother, Moo, is when she used to call me Pip. This was a reference to the foundling Pip in Dickens' Great Expectations but it was also a direct reference to me because my given name was Pippa. I loved her for doing that, for recognizing the real, first me. Any time she talked about my people, I listened. I would have liked to talk more with her about them but she was afraid, I think, of my curiosity. For example, she never took me to the city where she and I were born until the day we went searching together for my original father.
Barbara Raymond, who wrote The Baby Thief, described in a speech how she helped her 19-year-old daughter reunite (I'm paraphrasing): “As adoptive parents, we take care of our children when they're sick, we help them with their homework, we support them through their heartaches, we save for college... and we're not going to help them search for their original families?” I loved hearing her say that.
To adoptive parents, I say, educate yourselves about adoption, go to adoptee-birthparent support group meetings, and take your adopted young people. Make adoption a safe topic to talk about anytime. Really. If you made a mistake before you learned what the institution of closed adoption is, forgive yourselves. It's not our fault we didn't know the whole story of mother coercion and baby selling, etc., but now that we know, it's our responsibility to be informed and to advocate for something better. I'd want you, as the parent of an adopted person, to advocate on your young person's behalf for openness, social honesty, and legal reform. This will give her the space and permission to search when she's ready, to ask for your support, to expect to receive unconditional love from you, even as she reunites with her original people, which is her birthright, which will not hurt you, her other real parents. My adoptive dad says he didn't lose a daughter when I reunited with my sister, he gained one.
The author states that only you can be the judge of whether the primal wound in fact exists. How does the primal wound manifest in you? If you are in reunion with members of your birth family, did making that contact help with your healing? What, if anything, has helped you to heal?
Even the words, Primal Wound, send a shudder through my soul. Yes, it exists and I find it difficult to talk about because it still feels like a wound. I am in reunion with my family. Reunion was a huge step in healing the rootlessness I felt and in pacifying my voracious homing instinct. I still thrill when I see or talk to one of my siblings (both my original parents are now dead though we had happy years together), and I have a profound connection with my father's people through my Jewish faith – after I met my Jewish father, I converted to Judaism and raised my son as Jewish.
However, reunion itself isn't enough to heal the emptiness caused by abandonment. (Verrier correctly identifies that it's the abandonment and separation from our mothers that harms us, not adoption, per se.) Verrier touches on “the spiritual path” at the end of her book but I believe it deserves more discussion.
People can and will disappoint us, even after reunion. The only way I can recover from the primal wound is to really feel that I have never been and can never be abandoned by a loving power, whom I choose to call God but others might call The Good, the power of the universe, Nature, Buddha, etc.
This spiritual path is challenging when you're an adopted person. Every cell in my body feels as if it's tattooed (I use those words deliberately) with two words: She's Gone. Yet, if I really believe in a loving God who wants me to be whole, happy, and useful, I can't also continue to feel the emptiness of abandonment. I'm still on this path to spiritual recovery but I see glimmers of light and hope, and surely I believe I'm where I'm supposed to be, discussing it at this moment. Self-reliance and self-knowledge are not enough because there are days when I fail myself. I've found the rooms of 12-step programs to be very useful in developing a spiritual practice and a trust that things are as they're meant to be, no matter how mysterious.
.To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Marsha: The Primal Wound
The questions I chose to respond to are:
1) There are a great deal of behavioral issues that Verrier attributes to the Primal Wound of being separated from one's birthmother and subsequently adopted. These range from acting out and testing the adoptive parents to acting out and testing the adoptive parents to becoming detached, to future inabilities to maintain healthy relationships as an adult.
--------As an adoptive parent, my experience is that virtually every 'behavioral issue' that Verrier discusses in The Primal Wound existed in our family. We were not aware of Verrier's work until our daughter was almost 20 years old.
Behavior often reflects and projects pain. The adoptee often displays such behavior issues as a way to escape reality and to 'dodge' the bullet/pain of abandonment and loss. There were many 'markers' that clearly presented themselves as 'behavioral issues'. There was separation anxiety---staying at preschool, Brownies or a friend's house--- sabotaging of celebrations like birthdays, Christmas or Thanksgiving.
There was much anger--which come to find out--is a defense against sorrow. Adoptees seem to have poor frustration tolerance and impulse control. It seemed to us that is was easier for her to try to control all the rest of the family than it was to control herself. She frequently acted 'out of control'. She often 'made us' give into to her behaviors to avoid confrontations over mundane things. It was a complicated balance of wanting to 'support her' so that we didn't appear to not 'care enough'. She never took responsibilities for her actions/behavior.
Another manifestation of the trauma of abandonment is that of being unable or unwilling to allow anyone who is perceived to have abandoned the adoptee back into his life. When our daughter was just short of three years old, my husband had to move (6 months earlier than the rest of the family) to a new town for a new job. He came back to visit every other weekend. From the day he left, our daughter's relationship changed forever with him. We spent years and years never understanding why she refused to 'be with him' without me there. She wouldn't go to the park, on a walk, or anywhere with him. She often acted as if he just wasn't there.
One of the ways in which our daughter tried to prevent future losses and abandonment was to be in absolute control of every situation. Having been manipulated at the beginning of their lives makes adoptees manipulative and controlling. This need to defend against the possibilities of other losses intrudes into almost every other relationship. Our daughter often functioned under the 'rule' 'Do unto others first that which you fear they are going to do to you.'
She also virtually refused to get a job when it would have been appropriate. I would never have connected this to the adoption until Verrier stated that it was a response on adoptees behalf so that they wouldn't have to be rejected by the interviewer or boss. For us today (our daughter is 23 years old with two children of her own) there is much of the time that is consumed with a 'lack of trust in the permanency of our relationships with her' that keeps her placing 'things' in our path to test us to see if 'we will leave'----still.
Are adoptive parents ill equipped for fall out from primal wound? Did you fee prepared to address that sense of loss that your child might experience? How did you prepare yourselves? How did you help/plan to help your child resolve his/her feelings about his/her adoption?
Our adoption took place just over 23 years ago. There was absolutely NO mention of such a wound or issues of abandonment or loss. We were totally unprepared. In all honesty I doubt that there is any more preparation done by most adoption agencies today. I guess it is a difficult thing to talk about or discuss with prospective adoptive parents that they may/will face such problems. It is rather a 'downer' wouldn't you say?
I am not sure how I would tell an agency to approach that topic, but what I am sure about is that if one (person or agency) is committed to adoption being all about the child and not the adults/parents, then one MUST include Verrier's work so that when the 'need' arises (and it will) the parent(s) will be able to define what is happening and get the proper help for the child and themselves. Without those definitions/ knowledge, you all will definitely flail around, meet failures and frustrations at every level. Having that knowledge doesn't assure you that you will have smooth sailing but what it will do is give you the tools to at least proceed with some understanding instead of 'traveling down the dark alley with no flashlight'.
The best (certainly not single) example of this is the experience we had when our daughter was about eight years old. Her grandmother had passed away and subsequently we began to see many problems arise. It was hard to tell whether the problems/ behavior issues were just 'normal age related' ones or if we had crossed the line into behavior issues that we needed to pay more serious attention to. We were living in a different state than the one we adopted in. I had some contact with the adoption agency in our new state that did comparable adoptions as ours. When I called and asked the director for some recommendations for therapists so that we could ascertain if we needed special help, she said that they didn't really have a recommendation in our city for anyone except a therapist that did bonding and attachment therapy. I responded 'That certainly isn't what we need. My daughter is bonded to me at the hip'. Thanks anyway.
Now that I look back on that moment (with all the knowledge that I gleamed from 'The Primal Wound') that therapist would have been a perfect fit for our 'needs'. Perhaps we could have gotten 'therapy' that would have allowed us to 'see' and respond to the 'wound' that our daughter carried around in her 24/7. Understanding that wouldn't have given us the ticket to 'perfection', but it might have given us enough facts to develop a plan of support for her and ourselves. I therefore think it is essential for any measure of success in adoptions (for the adoptees or their adoptive parents) that all parties be given all the information surrounding the existence of the primal wound and how to (best) work towards healing (it).
A recurring message throughout the book is that adoption should be in the best interest of the child and not the adults, something that I think very few people would argue against. But should the adoptees feelings always trump everyone else's in the triad even when the adoptee is grown up?
We are 23 years out from the adoption. My daughter is married now with two small children of her own. I still get up almost every single day and ask myself that question in one way or another. That statement is not an exaggeration. We have one biological child who is 10 years older than our daughter. I am pretty sure he asks that question frequently also. I know that my husband does.
We traversed through most of the last 15 years or so of our daughter's life with her 'in control'. Of course, the truth/fact is that she couldn't be in control (although she tried and thought she was) of our lives because she'd had no control over anything in her life since birth. We went through 'behavior issues' (like running away, drugs, attendance/grade issues in school and ultimately dropping out, most holidays ruined/sabotaged by her, stealing, lying and anger-anger-anger). Much of the time we (my husband and I) walked on the thin ice between holding her responsible for her actions and not wanting her to think we weren't supporting or did not 'care enough'. We went through all that with her and never walked away or 'left her'. I say that not to pat us on the back at all, but to make the point that even though we 'never walked away or left her', she often (still) gives us the message that if our opinions differ with hers, she will never see us or talk to us again.
All that said, she will also frequently say, 'I love you and I don't know what I would do without you.' It remains a roller coaster ride. There is never a 'real/secure' period of time that we operate in a 'relaxed' state. The other shoe is always in waiting of being dropped. Having said that, I also hope that there will be a time when her 'feelings' won't trump everyone else's.
.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
1) There are a great deal of behavioral issues that Verrier attributes to the Primal Wound of being separated from one's birthmother and subsequently adopted. These range from acting out and testing the adoptive parents to acting out and testing the adoptive parents to becoming detached, to future inabilities to maintain healthy relationships as an adult.
--------As an adoptive parent, my experience is that virtually every 'behavioral issue' that Verrier discusses in The Primal Wound existed in our family. We were not aware of Verrier's work until our daughter was almost 20 years old.
Behavior often reflects and projects pain. The adoptee often displays such behavior issues as a way to escape reality and to 'dodge' the bullet/pain of abandonment and loss. There were many 'markers' that clearly presented themselves as 'behavioral issues'. There was separation anxiety---staying at preschool, Brownies or a friend's house--- sabotaging of celebrations like birthdays, Christmas or Thanksgiving.
There was much anger--which come to find out--is a defense against sorrow. Adoptees seem to have poor frustration tolerance and impulse control. It seemed to us that is was easier for her to try to control all the rest of the family than it was to control herself. She frequently acted 'out of control'. She often 'made us' give into to her behaviors to avoid confrontations over mundane things. It was a complicated balance of wanting to 'support her' so that we didn't appear to not 'care enough'. She never took responsibilities for her actions/behavior.
Another manifestation of the trauma of abandonment is that of being unable or unwilling to allow anyone who is perceived to have abandoned the adoptee back into his life. When our daughter was just short of three years old, my husband had to move (6 months earlier than the rest of the family) to a new town for a new job. He came back to visit every other weekend. From the day he left, our daughter's relationship changed forever with him. We spent years and years never understanding why she refused to 'be with him' without me there. She wouldn't go to the park, on a walk, or anywhere with him. She often acted as if he just wasn't there.
One of the ways in which our daughter tried to prevent future losses and abandonment was to be in absolute control of every situation. Having been manipulated at the beginning of their lives makes adoptees manipulative and controlling. This need to defend against the possibilities of other losses intrudes into almost every other relationship. Our daughter often functioned under the 'rule' 'Do unto others first that which you fear they are going to do to you.'
She also virtually refused to get a job when it would have been appropriate. I would never have connected this to the adoption until Verrier stated that it was a response on adoptees behalf so that they wouldn't have to be rejected by the interviewer or boss. For us today (our daughter is 23 years old with two children of her own) there is much of the time that is consumed with a 'lack of trust in the permanency of our relationships with her' that keeps her placing 'things' in our path to test us to see if 'we will leave'----still.
Are adoptive parents ill equipped for fall out from primal wound? Did you fee prepared to address that sense of loss that your child might experience? How did you prepare yourselves? How did you help/plan to help your child resolve his/her feelings about his/her adoption?
Our adoption took place just over 23 years ago. There was absolutely NO mention of such a wound or issues of abandonment or loss. We were totally unprepared. In all honesty I doubt that there is any more preparation done by most adoption agencies today. I guess it is a difficult thing to talk about or discuss with prospective adoptive parents that they may/will face such problems. It is rather a 'downer' wouldn't you say?
I am not sure how I would tell an agency to approach that topic, but what I am sure about is that if one (person or agency) is committed to adoption being all about the child and not the adults/parents, then one MUST include Verrier's work so that when the 'need' arises (and it will) the parent(s) will be able to define what is happening and get the proper help for the child and themselves. Without those definitions/ knowledge, you all will definitely flail around, meet failures and frustrations at every level. Having that knowledge doesn't assure you that you will have smooth sailing but what it will do is give you the tools to at least proceed with some understanding instead of 'traveling down the dark alley with no flashlight'.
The best (certainly not single) example of this is the experience we had when our daughter was about eight years old. Her grandmother had passed away and subsequently we began to see many problems arise. It was hard to tell whether the problems/ behavior issues were just 'normal age related' ones or if we had crossed the line into behavior issues that we needed to pay more serious attention to. We were living in a different state than the one we adopted in. I had some contact with the adoption agency in our new state that did comparable adoptions as ours. When I called and asked the director for some recommendations for therapists so that we could ascertain if we needed special help, she said that they didn't really have a recommendation in our city for anyone except a therapist that did bonding and attachment therapy. I responded 'That certainly isn't what we need. My daughter is bonded to me at the hip'. Thanks anyway.
Now that I look back on that moment (with all the knowledge that I gleamed from 'The Primal Wound') that therapist would have been a perfect fit for our 'needs'. Perhaps we could have gotten 'therapy' that would have allowed us to 'see' and respond to the 'wound' that our daughter carried around in her 24/7. Understanding that wouldn't have given us the ticket to 'perfection', but it might have given us enough facts to develop a plan of support for her and ourselves. I therefore think it is essential for any measure of success in adoptions (for the adoptees or their adoptive parents) that all parties be given all the information surrounding the existence of the primal wound and how to (best) work towards healing (it).
A recurring message throughout the book is that adoption should be in the best interest of the child and not the adults, something that I think very few people would argue against. But should the adoptees feelings always trump everyone else's in the triad even when the adoptee is grown up?
We are 23 years out from the adoption. My daughter is married now with two small children of her own. I still get up almost every single day and ask myself that question in one way or another. That statement is not an exaggeration. We have one biological child who is 10 years older than our daughter. I am pretty sure he asks that question frequently also. I know that my husband does.
We traversed through most of the last 15 years or so of our daughter's life with her 'in control'. Of course, the truth/fact is that she couldn't be in control (although she tried and thought she was) of our lives because she'd had no control over anything in her life since birth. We went through 'behavior issues' (like running away, drugs, attendance/grade issues in school and ultimately dropping out, most holidays ruined/sabotaged by her, stealing, lying and anger-anger-anger). Much of the time we (my husband and I) walked on the thin ice between holding her responsible for her actions and not wanting her to think we weren't supporting or did not 'care enough'. We went through all that with her and never walked away or 'left her'. I say that not to pat us on the back at all, but to make the point that even though we 'never walked away or left her', she often (still) gives us the message that if our opinions differ with hers, she will never see us or talk to us again.
All that said, she will also frequently say, 'I love you and I don't know what I would do without you.' It remains a roller coaster ride. There is never a 'real/secure' period of time that we operate in a 'relaxed' state. The other shoe is always in waiting of being dropped. Having said that, I also hope that there will be a time when her 'feelings' won't trump everyone else's.
.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Matriarch: The Primal Wound
The author states that only you can be the judge of whether the primal wound in fact exists. How does the primal wound manifest in you? If you are in reunion with members of your birth family, did making that contact help with your healing? What, if anything, has helped you to heal?
The primal wound manifested in me the same way it manifested in my birthmother, who was also adopted. It is a feeling of "drifting", and a certain detachment from life.
But the interesting thing about it is that while we both experienced these same feelings, our adoption experiences were worlds apart... I grew up in an emotionally barren household, while her experience was only positive; she had always maintained that she had no desire to search, and considered her adoptive parents as her own. Yet, she was still a drifter, always looking to fill a certain void she could not explain.
This leads me to conclude that the primal wound is there, whether it is acknowledged or not. I believe there is a built-in bond between mother and child that is supernatural and cannot be denied.
It does not help that anything to do with searching is a subject that is generally taboo in the adoptive household... I learned quickly it was a subject to be feared greatly and ought never to be mentioned.
Acknowledgement of those feelings in an atmosphere of trust, understanding and compassion must be present.
My birthmother married and went on to have 6 more children after me. I grew up as an only child, who often went for long walks alone to nurture inner peace. I was not sociable, didn't have many friends although I wanted desperately to feel loved.
It did not help that I was not allowed the freedom establish my own identity, even in things like dress for example. I wore what was put on my back, which was often two generations antiquated, my opinion irrelevant. Keep in mind this was the 70's. This only served to further alienate me from my peers.
My general experience growing up was one of stifling all modes of self-expression. Even my career interests were heavily criticized. While these things may not be exclusive to adoption, there were many reasons I often felt like I was living in an orphanage or boarding school rather than in a home... everything was so regimented, stiff, strained and restrained. I felt like property that was there to please, and when I didn't, was either punished or ignored.
I was reunited beginning in 85 with some of my birth siblings, and only in 2004 had I finally met all of them.
When my search began in '83, a friend revealed to my adoptive father what I was trying to do. Needless to say, he was infuriated. In any case, when I eventually found, I said nothing. I would have liked them to meet, but realized I now lived in two worlds, whether I liked it or not.
Living in two worlds was not easy; I often found myself torn between loyalties, and would go for long periods being out of touch with my birth family, which was a very big mistake I beg everyone not to repeat.
But because I was influenced in this way, I lost out on seeing all of my nieces and nephews grow up. I missed out on sharing these normal, natural family events.
My brothers and sisters accepted me with open arms, and I had something I'd never had in my life. A connection, a belonging, an extension of my real self. Family traits and strong resemblances. Things non-adoptees take for granted, and are granted easy access to, by the government itself, via genealogical databases. If it is considered beneficial for the general population to know their roots... how much more for us?
In an age where just about every other social right you can think of has already been granted, why do adoptees continue to face discrimination? Is family history not one of the most basic fundamental rights to be expected? I'm surprised it even requires preponderance.
I cannot imagine being denied the right to know my siblings, just because years ago a couple "wanted a baby", like people want pets.
Sometimes, I think some end up secretly wishing they could return them, like pets. (I have known some other aparents that should never be allowed anywhere near children)
The laws in place in most areas serve no one but the adoptive parents, and in a very low percentage (5%) of cases, the birth parents. But I believe two things with all my being:
But I don't believe it should have taken most of my life to feel this way, to get to this point. Should an adoptee not feel nurtured, accepted, appreciated? Encouraged to grow and to find themselves? I felt none of those things until much later in life.
And that's a sad thing for a child, especially a "chosen" child. I find it ironic that children who are supposedly so "wanted" often end up in the worst possible hands.
On page 18, there is a discussion entitled 'The Mysterious Link between Mother and Child." I think no one would argue that there is a link, after all they are 'one' for the initial nine months of life. That many adoptees feel that there is an empty hole inside them and that it is there for the birthmother is I believe very comforting and indicative that an empty 'space' does not have to be a 'wound.' It may even be the source of an illusive driving force, that another person is always behind the child's pursuit of happeniness and worth. I like the analogy of an empty space and believe that this is mirrored in a birthmother -.that an empty space in her life will always be reserved for her child. I would like to request reactions from adoptees about this idea...which is such a reassuring idea for this particular birthmother.
For me, and for many fellow adoptees, part of the mystery of this connection is that there are certain undeniable "coincidences" that occur with no possible prior knowledge on the part of either party, especially in regard to names, activities, etc... why do they occur? This is an important question that runs soul deep. It is a deeply spiritual phenomenon, and it has to mean something... it has to mean something.
For instance, my adoptive first name ends with "anne" and my birth sister born next after me has the same name which ends in "ette". Both are worlds apart from the original name my birthmother gave me, and she couldn't possibly have known my adoptive name 2 years later when she named my sister. How do you explain something like this?
You will never convince me that this happened by accident. It is almost like nature leaves clues along the way.
This is just one example of many unusual occurrences that go beyond shared family "traits" to something deeper... I am obsessed with boats. I later found out my birth father was a marine mechanic. There is no way I could have known this in advance. Perhaps part of this "space" is a key that holds an invisibly written part of our identity.
If we are able to look inside ourselves, and read some of these clues that point to things we like and do that perhaps did not come from our environment, but are a part of who we are... we might find it's part of a bigger picture.
In several places in the book I saw other adoptees stating that they had always felt different or like they didn't fit in. Is this something that you can describe more? I myself don't really recall feeling like my difference was related to being adopted yet I know that many of the personality traits were very much like me.
More than anything else, I believe there's an integral part of our personality that's genetically programmed... and when that personality clashes with our adoptive family's, it follows that things won't flow as expected. Unfortunately, this is something that isn't considered ahead of time. Compatibility profiling might forestall some of that. Of course, nothing's guaranteed, but if the birth mother and the adoptive mother are such totally different people, it is almost certain that trouble will ensue. The expression, "The branch doesn't fall far from the tree" is quite true.
For my birth mother, she had trouble fitting in because she was not like any of them. Her personality was too flamboyant and boisterous for a small town, and she moved to the big city very early in life.
In my case, my afamily was trying to raise a Victorian child in an era of flower children... a daunting task in itself, without all the other complications.
In closing, I'd just like to say that while I am not anti-adoption, I'm definitely pro-disclosure ~ open adoption all the way.
If it's really all about the children, put an end to secrets and lies.
.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
The primal wound manifested in me the same way it manifested in my birthmother, who was also adopted. It is a feeling of "drifting", and a certain detachment from life.
But the interesting thing about it is that while we both experienced these same feelings, our adoption experiences were worlds apart... I grew up in an emotionally barren household, while her experience was only positive; she had always maintained that she had no desire to search, and considered her adoptive parents as her own. Yet, she was still a drifter, always looking to fill a certain void she could not explain.
This leads me to conclude that the primal wound is there, whether it is acknowledged or not. I believe there is a built-in bond between mother and child that is supernatural and cannot be denied.
It does not help that anything to do with searching is a subject that is generally taboo in the adoptive household... I learned quickly it was a subject to be feared greatly and ought never to be mentioned.
Acknowledgement of those feelings in an atmosphere of trust, understanding and compassion must be present.
My birthmother married and went on to have 6 more children after me. I grew up as an only child, who often went for long walks alone to nurture inner peace. I was not sociable, didn't have many friends although I wanted desperately to feel loved.
It did not help that I was not allowed the freedom establish my own identity, even in things like dress for example. I wore what was put on my back, which was often two generations antiquated, my opinion irrelevant. Keep in mind this was the 70's. This only served to further alienate me from my peers.
My general experience growing up was one of stifling all modes of self-expression. Even my career interests were heavily criticized. While these things may not be exclusive to adoption, there were many reasons I often felt like I was living in an orphanage or boarding school rather than in a home... everything was so regimented, stiff, strained and restrained. I felt like property that was there to please, and when I didn't, was either punished or ignored.
I was reunited beginning in 85 with some of my birth siblings, and only in 2004 had I finally met all of them.
When my search began in '83, a friend revealed to my adoptive father what I was trying to do. Needless to say, he was infuriated. In any case, when I eventually found, I said nothing. I would have liked them to meet, but realized I now lived in two worlds, whether I liked it or not.
Living in two worlds was not easy; I often found myself torn between loyalties, and would go for long periods being out of touch with my birth family, which was a very big mistake I beg everyone not to repeat.
But because I was influenced in this way, I lost out on seeing all of my nieces and nephews grow up. I missed out on sharing these normal, natural family events.
My brothers and sisters accepted me with open arms, and I had something I'd never had in my life. A connection, a belonging, an extension of my real self. Family traits and strong resemblances. Things non-adoptees take for granted, and are granted easy access to, by the government itself, via genealogical databases. If it is considered beneficial for the general population to know their roots... how much more for us?
In an age where just about every other social right you can think of has already been granted, why do adoptees continue to face discrimination? Is family history not one of the most basic fundamental rights to be expected? I'm surprised it even requires preponderance.
I cannot imagine being denied the right to know my siblings, just because years ago a couple "wanted a baby", like people want pets.
Sometimes, I think some end up secretly wishing they could return them, like pets. (I have known some other aparents that should never be allowed anywhere near children)
The laws in place in most areas serve no one but the adoptive parents, and in a very low percentage (5%) of cases, the birth parents. But I believe two things with all my being:
- No one has the right to walk away from a life they created, unidentified. The need to know outweighs and outranks the desire for privacy. If you don't wish to pursue a relationship, fine. That doesn't give you the right to deny us our name and ethnic heritage- not to mention, medical history. It belongs to us. It is already ours, from the moment two cells become one.
- There comes a day when we're too old to "play house" any longer. I don't mean that this is the day we abandon our caregivers, it is a reality check for the powers that be. The day comes when we are no longer children, and our heritage is by birth, not association, that's an undeniable fact. It is at that point that we should be allowed unrestricted access to our birth information.
But I don't believe it should have taken most of my life to feel this way, to get to this point. Should an adoptee not feel nurtured, accepted, appreciated? Encouraged to grow and to find themselves? I felt none of those things until much later in life.
And that's a sad thing for a child, especially a "chosen" child. I find it ironic that children who are supposedly so "wanted" often end up in the worst possible hands.
On page 18, there is a discussion entitled 'The Mysterious Link between Mother and Child." I think no one would argue that there is a link, after all they are 'one' for the initial nine months of life. That many adoptees feel that there is an empty hole inside them and that it is there for the birthmother is I believe very comforting and indicative that an empty 'space' does not have to be a 'wound.' It may even be the source of an illusive driving force, that another person is always behind the child's pursuit of happeniness and worth. I like the analogy of an empty space and believe that this is mirrored in a birthmother -.that an empty space in her life will always be reserved for her child. I would like to request reactions from adoptees about this idea...which is such a reassuring idea for this particular birthmother.
For me, and for many fellow adoptees, part of the mystery of this connection is that there are certain undeniable "coincidences" that occur with no possible prior knowledge on the part of either party, especially in regard to names, activities, etc... why do they occur? This is an important question that runs soul deep. It is a deeply spiritual phenomenon, and it has to mean something... it has to mean something.
For instance, my adoptive first name ends with "anne" and my birth sister born next after me has the same name which ends in "ette". Both are worlds apart from the original name my birthmother gave me, and she couldn't possibly have known my adoptive name 2 years later when she named my sister. How do you explain something like this?
You will never convince me that this happened by accident. It is almost like nature leaves clues along the way.
This is just one example of many unusual occurrences that go beyond shared family "traits" to something deeper... I am obsessed with boats. I later found out my birth father was a marine mechanic. There is no way I could have known this in advance. Perhaps part of this "space" is a key that holds an invisibly written part of our identity.
If we are able to look inside ourselves, and read some of these clues that point to things we like and do that perhaps did not come from our environment, but are a part of who we are... we might find it's part of a bigger picture.
In several places in the book I saw other adoptees stating that they had always felt different or like they didn't fit in. Is this something that you can describe more? I myself don't really recall feeling like my difference was related to being adopted yet I know that many of the personality traits were very much like me.
More than anything else, I believe there's an integral part of our personality that's genetically programmed... and when that personality clashes with our adoptive family's, it follows that things won't flow as expected. Unfortunately, this is something that isn't considered ahead of time. Compatibility profiling might forestall some of that. Of course, nothing's guaranteed, but if the birth mother and the adoptive mother are such totally different people, it is almost certain that trouble will ensue. The expression, "The branch doesn't fall far from the tree" is quite true.
For my birth mother, she had trouble fitting in because she was not like any of them. Her personality was too flamboyant and boisterous for a small town, and she moved to the big city very early in life.
In my case, my afamily was trying to raise a Victorian child in an era of flower children... a daunting task in itself, without all the other complications.
In closing, I'd just like to say that while I am not anti-adoption, I'm definitely pro-disclosure ~ open adoption all the way.
If it's really all about the children, put an end to secrets and lies.
.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Sheryl: The Primal Wound
I would just like to say, as an adoptee, it is about time! I was under the impression all these years that I was alone. That the majority of my issues were from having been abused by my adoptive mother, which I'm sure they are in some ways, and the fact that I am a transracial, a term I never heard until I read this book, adoptee. The adoptees that were clients, some of them seemed to come from very good non abusive adoptive parents, and yet still have many of the same issues I have been dealing with all my life. I would like to know, what are some of the issues that other transracial adoptees have dealt with, having suffered abusive or having had loving adoptive parents. What were some of the dynamics in those families abusive verses non abusive. What was the reason behind the decision to adopt transracially.
My adoptive parents, were foster parents first. I don't think they planned to adopt transracially, they just had been foster parents for four years and fealt it was best for me. I think my mother resented having to defend adopting a child of ethnicity. My adoptive parents unfortunately were given terrible advice from a psychiatrist to not tell me I was adopted. My adoptive mother was mentally ill, my child hood was nearly identical to Christina Crofferds, in "Mommy Dearest," a movie that saved my life when I was 12 yrs old. I had a plan to take my life, and the day that Mommy Dearest came on television I happend to be at a friends house and we watched it together. That is why I am still here today. I thought, if Christina could make it, maybe I could too. I dealt with racism from teachers and children at school. I didn't know why everyone hated me. Teachers treated me differently than the other students. I didn't get the respect and consideration that the other children seemed to get. I thought it was because I was adopted. It wasn't until I was 9 yrs old when I was at my sisters engagement party, that I would come to understand the true meaning of why I was treated so differently. In the kitchen at this party, was the maid, who was helping prepare food. She was a black woman. sitting at the kitchen table, were her two sons, coloring in their coloring books, perfectly well behaved. I was running arround the house with all the other children at this party, when all of a sudden, a very tall heavy set man grabbed me by my arm and said, "what are you doing out here?" I was totally confused, by this man, I said, "I'm just playing", he said, "shouldn't you be in the kitchen?" I said, "I don't think so", now I'm scared, I've obviously done something wrong, I don't know what it is, this man proceeds to escort me into the kitchen by my arm, where this black woman and her children are sitting and he says to me, "isn't this where you belong, is this your mother", I said "no", then he looked at the black woman and said, "is this your daughter", she said "no". After that he just walked out of the kitchen. I stood frozen in that kitchen for what seemed like an eternity, until my mother finally came to get me. While standing in that kitchen, I realized white people don't like black people, and they think I am black, that is why everyone hates me. It had nothing to do with being adopted. My bio mother was puerto rican and my dad was german. They said my mother was a dark skinned puerto rican which she may have had some african roots. I am medium/light with brown curly hair, not black hair like most latinas. So why this man thought I belonged to this very dark skinned black maid, I don't know. I am currently in search of a therapist who, is experienced with adoptees, they are very hard to find, as the author is correct in her statement in her book that there are plenty of resources for counsling for adoptive parents, but not much out there for the birth mom or the adoptee.
Sheryl-adoptee
My adoptive parents, were foster parents first. I don't think they planned to adopt transracially, they just had been foster parents for four years and fealt it was best for me. I think my mother resented having to defend adopting a child of ethnicity. My adoptive parents unfortunately were given terrible advice from a psychiatrist to not tell me I was adopted. My adoptive mother was mentally ill, my child hood was nearly identical to Christina Crofferds, in "Mommy Dearest," a movie that saved my life when I was 12 yrs old. I had a plan to take my life, and the day that Mommy Dearest came on television I happend to be at a friends house and we watched it together. That is why I am still here today. I thought, if Christina could make it, maybe I could too. I dealt with racism from teachers and children at school. I didn't know why everyone hated me. Teachers treated me differently than the other students. I didn't get the respect and consideration that the other children seemed to get. I thought it was because I was adopted. It wasn't until I was 9 yrs old when I was at my sisters engagement party, that I would come to understand the true meaning of why I was treated so differently. In the kitchen at this party, was the maid, who was helping prepare food. She was a black woman. sitting at the kitchen table, were her two sons, coloring in their coloring books, perfectly well behaved. I was running arround the house with all the other children at this party, when all of a sudden, a very tall heavy set man grabbed me by my arm and said, "what are you doing out here?" I was totally confused, by this man, I said, "I'm just playing", he said, "shouldn't you be in the kitchen?" I said, "I don't think so", now I'm scared, I've obviously done something wrong, I don't know what it is, this man proceeds to escort me into the kitchen by my arm, where this black woman and her children are sitting and he says to me, "isn't this where you belong, is this your mother", I said "no", then he looked at the black woman and said, "is this your daughter", she said "no". After that he just walked out of the kitchen. I stood frozen in that kitchen for what seemed like an eternity, until my mother finally came to get me. While standing in that kitchen, I realized white people don't like black people, and they think I am black, that is why everyone hates me. It had nothing to do with being adopted. My bio mother was puerto rican and my dad was german. They said my mother was a dark skinned puerto rican which she may have had some african roots. I am medium/light with brown curly hair, not black hair like most latinas. So why this man thought I belonged to this very dark skinned black maid, I don't know. I am currently in search of a therapist who, is experienced with adoptees, they are very hard to find, as the author is correct in her statement in her book that there are plenty of resources for counsling for adoptive parents, but not much out there for the birth mom or the adoptee.
Sheryl-adoptee
Open Adoption and the Primal Wound
I go by the screen name of OpenAdoptMomof3, so you will know why I selected the questions that I did. It would be kind of hard to take a "pass" on the ones addressing a topic that is such a primary part of my "identity". Together with my husband, I am eleven (wow!) years into my journey as an adoptive parent of three children. As my screen name implies, our adoptions are considered 'open' adoptions. The interaction between our nuclear family, our families of origin, and our families through adoption; has been a source of support, wonder, and (ok, I admit it) pride over this past decade.
Reading Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier took some of the shine off that openness "accomplishment" for me and much of the pride too, frankly. Reading the book prompted me to revisit that critical time when my children were first born and Verrier's book was still waiting for me on Amazon.com. Why, oh Why? do epiphanies always come after the window of opportunity to apply them?
To the questions then, relating Primal Wound and open adoption:
"Having read the book, how do all sides of the triad (meaning, all should reply regardless of triad position) think open adoption changes the feel of this book? If you don't feel it changes it in any way, why? If you feel that it changes everything, in what ways? If you fall somewhere in the middle, how do you explain what does get changed and why other things are left unchanged?"
Let me take a bit of time to describe open adoption as it was defined in the late 1990s for us. The “openness” adjective was applied to any adoption where first and last names were shared between one or both of the first parents, and the adoptive parent(s). That's it. There was no requirement for how or when or even IF you would see each other. I've heard people describe an adoption as “open” when the two sets of parents have met one time!
In my opinion, knowing how to Google someone to get an address for sending a birthday card doesn't make for an open adoption. Open adoption is adoptive and first families accepting each other as permanent family members and acknowledging that together they will all play unique roles in the raising of this child that has been born. An open adoption joins at least three families together forever (two first parent families and at least one adoptive parent family).
So, I personally use the term “wide open adoption” to describe adoptions where first- and adoptive- family members commit to an ongoing relationship that is not measured in terms of numbers of minutes spent together, quantity of letters and pictures exchanged, etc. but rather by how integrated all the family members are in the life of the child. I don't believe this has to require living in the same town (though it helps). Just as my sister, who lives on the other end of the country from us, is a fully engaged aunt for my children; so it is also possible for first families to be an integral part of the family even if not living in close proximity to the adoptive family.
Back to the question: how does "wide open" adoption as I've described it "change the feel" of the Primal Wound book? I don't think it typically changes a single thing in terms of what an infant experiences. Even in open adoptions the hospital experience varies widely - but in the end, babe usually goes home with adoptive parent(s) at about 3 days old, and contact with first mom is often reduced to a trickle. In my opinion, the baby would still interpret this as abandonment.
Where I think wide open adoption might influence a future edition of this book, would be in the healing process. I am intensely curious about how an adopted baby could begin to heal from the abandonment scars, while still a child with a developing brain and character. If a child grows up with open access to, and participation and support from, his or her first family; I wonder if it's possible to heal earlier and more completely. I don't recall seeing much in the book about that concept and I'd love to see it explored in depth now that there should be a growing number of adopted children maturing within wide open adoption family settings.
And a second question about openness:
"The author’s core premise is that the separation of birth mother from her baby will inevitably be experienced by the child as abandonment. Verrier believes this is responsible for various problems experienced by adoptees, due to unresolved issues regarding trust, rejection, shame, and identity. The author dismisses the notion that open adoption could be the “hope of the future” because the birth mother is still not the child’s “primary caregiver” (p8) and therefore the loss is still experienced as abandonment. Could real openness in adoption have the potential to change the author’s core premise? In other words, do you think that a child in a fully open adoption with ongoing contact with birth family will still experience his/her placement as abandonment? Why or why not? "
Despite the terms "real openness", "fully open", or "wide open" as it relates to adoptions, I still think open adoption is currently seen more as defining a long term investment over the life of the child, than something influencing that initial infant abandonment experience. I think all the involved parents typically have little understanding of how adoption will affect the newborn infant. Less attention and focus has traditionally been placed on the birth event and transition from the babe's perspective – more likely it is the adults trying to decide what they want for themselves during that time.
I would guess that abandonment would still be perceived by the infant unless the adoption transition occurred slowly and with enough time for baby to get used to another caregiver and feel permission from the first mother to attach to the other caregiver. So that over time, baby gets used to the new mother and feels permission to love both and attach to both, with the adoptive mother eventually becoming a primary caregiver and the balance shifting in terms of the two roles.
No matter how open the adoption, or how gradual the transition, Primal Wound points out that there would still be the issue of mother-babe being a single psychological unit for some time after birth. I would not think that link could ever be established with an alternate mother, although I don't suppose we can know for sure with the skills we have today. That disconnection may not be felt as abandonment however, but some other kind of injury to the soul.
I would love to compare and contrast the results from varying forms of transition. Does it matter if the adoptive mother cared for the baby from immediately after birth? What effect would it have if the two mothers alternated care of the infant for several months after birth? What kind of transition would minimize the wounds as much as possible?
The answers would help me personally understand my children I am sure. For example, my second child spent time after birth with his first mother and in the hospital nursery, as I was ill and also caring for a sick one year old. We took him home on Day 3 having spent very little time with him to that point. Is it a coincidence that he cried for 11 months straight and didn't sleep on his own until just before his 10th birthday? Yet, this same child was cared for by his first mom two full days a week until he was 8 months old. How did that affect him? I'm hoping more research is under way in this and other areas.
I was mostly talking about a baby's understanding of the placement with openness in adoption... but if we talk about an older child's understanding, can openness help heal that feeling of abandonment? I want to believe that it can! Again, perhaps with true openness the adoption healing can begin earlier than adulthood and maybe even without therapy. Knowing from a very young age that their first parents love them and are present for them in a critical family role, just must be soothing in some way for young psyches and help to make sense of adoption in a timely manner.
In conclusion, I do not believe we've invented such thing as a perfect adoption. But I still believe, despite the shortfalls we have yet to mitigate, that open adoption can be a healthier option than a closed one. Our 11 year old met her father for the first time this fall, and I shared some of the intial photos taken at that meeting. My Aunt's emailed reply says it all:
"... I am touched to tears. What beautiful pictures, and what a beautiful story they tell. If anyone wonders if a child should know his/her birth parents [her] face answers the question. ... I have so much respect for those kids, and special joy for [her]."
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
Reading Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier took some of the shine off that openness "accomplishment" for me and much of the pride too, frankly. Reading the book prompted me to revisit that critical time when my children were first born and Verrier's book was still waiting for me on Amazon.com. Why, oh Why? do epiphanies always come after the window of opportunity to apply them?
To the questions then, relating Primal Wound and open adoption:
"Having read the book, how do all sides of the triad (meaning, all should reply regardless of triad position) think open adoption changes the feel of this book? If you don't feel it changes it in any way, why? If you feel that it changes everything, in what ways? If you fall somewhere in the middle, how do you explain what does get changed and why other things are left unchanged?"
Let me take a bit of time to describe open adoption as it was defined in the late 1990s for us. The “openness” adjective was applied to any adoption where first and last names were shared between one or both of the first parents, and the adoptive parent(s). That's it. There was no requirement for how or when or even IF you would see each other. I've heard people describe an adoption as “open” when the two sets of parents have met one time!
In my opinion, knowing how to Google someone to get an address for sending a birthday card doesn't make for an open adoption. Open adoption is adoptive and first families accepting each other as permanent family members and acknowledging that together they will all play unique roles in the raising of this child that has been born. An open adoption joins at least three families together forever (two first parent families and at least one adoptive parent family).
So, I personally use the term “wide open adoption” to describe adoptions where first- and adoptive- family members commit to an ongoing relationship that is not measured in terms of numbers of minutes spent together, quantity of letters and pictures exchanged, etc. but rather by how integrated all the family members are in the life of the child. I don't believe this has to require living in the same town (though it helps). Just as my sister, who lives on the other end of the country from us, is a fully engaged aunt for my children; so it is also possible for first families to be an integral part of the family even if not living in close proximity to the adoptive family.
Back to the question: how does "wide open" adoption as I've described it "change the feel" of the Primal Wound book? I don't think it typically changes a single thing in terms of what an infant experiences. Even in open adoptions the hospital experience varies widely - but in the end, babe usually goes home with adoptive parent(s) at about 3 days old, and contact with first mom is often reduced to a trickle. In my opinion, the baby would still interpret this as abandonment.
Where I think wide open adoption might influence a future edition of this book, would be in the healing process. I am intensely curious about how an adopted baby could begin to heal from the abandonment scars, while still a child with a developing brain and character. If a child grows up with open access to, and participation and support from, his or her first family; I wonder if it's possible to heal earlier and more completely. I don't recall seeing much in the book about that concept and I'd love to see it explored in depth now that there should be a growing number of adopted children maturing within wide open adoption family settings.
And a second question about openness:
"The author’s core premise is that the separation of birth mother from her baby will inevitably be experienced by the child as abandonment. Verrier believes this is responsible for various problems experienced by adoptees, due to unresolved issues regarding trust, rejection, shame, and identity. The author dismisses the notion that open adoption could be the “hope of the future” because the birth mother is still not the child’s “primary caregiver” (p8) and therefore the loss is still experienced as abandonment. Could real openness in adoption have the potential to change the author’s core premise? In other words, do you think that a child in a fully open adoption with ongoing contact with birth family will still experience his/her placement as abandonment? Why or why not? "
Despite the terms "real openness", "fully open", or "wide open" as it relates to adoptions, I still think open adoption is currently seen more as defining a long term investment over the life of the child, than something influencing that initial infant abandonment experience. I think all the involved parents typically have little understanding of how adoption will affect the newborn infant. Less attention and focus has traditionally been placed on the birth event and transition from the babe's perspective – more likely it is the adults trying to decide what they want for themselves during that time.
I would guess that abandonment would still be perceived by the infant unless the adoption transition occurred slowly and with enough time for baby to get used to another caregiver and feel permission from the first mother to attach to the other caregiver. So that over time, baby gets used to the new mother and feels permission to love both and attach to both, with the adoptive mother eventually becoming a primary caregiver and the balance shifting in terms of the two roles.
No matter how open the adoption, or how gradual the transition, Primal Wound points out that there would still be the issue of mother-babe being a single psychological unit for some time after birth. I would not think that link could ever be established with an alternate mother, although I don't suppose we can know for sure with the skills we have today. That disconnection may not be felt as abandonment however, but some other kind of injury to the soul.
I would love to compare and contrast the results from varying forms of transition. Does it matter if the adoptive mother cared for the baby from immediately after birth? What effect would it have if the two mothers alternated care of the infant for several months after birth? What kind of transition would minimize the wounds as much as possible?
The answers would help me personally understand my children I am sure. For example, my second child spent time after birth with his first mother and in the hospital nursery, as I was ill and also caring for a sick one year old. We took him home on Day 3 having spent very little time with him to that point. Is it a coincidence that he cried for 11 months straight and didn't sleep on his own until just before his 10th birthday? Yet, this same child was cared for by his first mom two full days a week until he was 8 months old. How did that affect him? I'm hoping more research is under way in this and other areas.
I was mostly talking about a baby's understanding of the placement with openness in adoption... but if we talk about an older child's understanding, can openness help heal that feeling of abandonment? I want to believe that it can! Again, perhaps with true openness the adoption healing can begin earlier than adulthood and maybe even without therapy. Knowing from a very young age that their first parents love them and are present for them in a critical family role, just must be soothing in some way for young psyches and help to make sense of adoption in a timely manner.
In conclusion, I do not believe we've invented such thing as a perfect adoption. But I still believe, despite the shortfalls we have yet to mitigate, that open adoption can be a healthier option than a closed one. Our 11 year old met her father for the first time this fall, and I shared some of the intial photos taken at that meeting. My Aunt's emailed reply says it all:
"... I am touched to tears. What beautiful pictures, and what a beautiful story they tell. If anyone wonders if a child should know his/her birth parents [her] face answers the question. ... I have so much respect for those kids, and special joy for [her]."
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
D28Bob: The Primal Wound
Here are my three questions:
This request for comment from birthmothers is actually based on Nancy's book completely. In Chapter 13, The Reunion Process, she outlines what she sees as Barriers to Positive Relationships. I have fear, I have guilt, I have shame, I have rage, I have anger and I work constantly on not letting them dominate me. I have made much progress with guilt and with shame. Anger I am trying to just accept. Bottom line, I want myself back. I want to take back my power so that future relationships not only with my birthson but with my husband will not be grounded in the sandy soil of self doubt.I chose to answer this question even though I am an adoptee, not a firstparent. The barriers she speaks of apply to all members of the Triad! I too have had fear, guilt, shame, rage and anger and it has been hard to get past these symptoms of grief. It has affected my relationships with my nurturing family as well as my own spouse and children. The value of pondering Nancy's book has been that unlike the adult sides of the Triad, I never knew where my loss came from. Until only a few years ago, I was buffeted by these emotions as well, only I had no idea what drove them. Yes, I knew I was adopted from early childhood, but no one in my acquaintance ever suggested that there might be an underlying cause.
It took the near collapse of my marriage of over 30 years to cause me to seek help; fortunately my therapist picked up on my status as an adopted person at the start and asked if I had ever explored that issue. Of course I had not, even though my adoptive parents have been gone for years. This led to support groups and my introduction to the literature and an awareness of modern thought and studies of adoption, and eventually to Primal Wound. My reaction to the book was overpowering - I felt it was written for me by someone who knew my innermost thoughts!
We cannot begin repairing our lives until we know and acknowledge there is something wrong, and find the causes for our unhappiness. Fear, guilt, shame, rage and anger are all symptoms of unhappiness, reactions to grief. First parents may not understand for a time where the grief comes from, but they have the advantage of being adults (or at least past puberty) when their trauma occurs, as do nurturing parents. But we whose parents gave us their unconditional love, as Nancy gave her adopted daughter, still have difficulty accepting that love from lack of trust, fear of abandonment, all the reasons that Primal Wound suggested. Many natural and nurturing parents did not experience this trauma; those who had a normal biological infancy still find it hard to accept.
I agree that natural parents suffered a trauma connected to adoption, but the focus of the book is not on their trauma for it is usually a different one (except for that large cohort of female adoptees who become first parents.
The value of Nancy's book to me was in identifying the source of my grief. That's a necessary step, but I have just begun Coming Home to Self because after reading Primal Wound three times over the past 18 months, I'm ready to move beyond grief to healing myself.
As a birthmother, my overwhelming stance towards this book was, (until completion that is) very defensive. It hurt to have to read about the pain I've inflicted upon my daughter, and my initial reaction was to criticize the book's thesis and deny that any part of it could be found in my personal story. Did others (adoptive parents, adoptees and birthparents alike) have this same reaction? If so, was your opinion changed by the end of the book?
I'll answer this question because of a specific example in my own life. The first time I read Primal Wound almost two years ago, I found the thesis thought-provoking but could not really accept it; I had after all spent over 50 years believing in the "win-win" model of adoption that is socially accepted, never questioning the myths. After all, despite my excellent memory, I had no recollection of my earliest childhood, even of my year in an orphanage before adoption, so it all seemed hypothetical to me.
My sister-in-law happened to phone soon after I had finished the book, and on a whim I asked to speak to her because I recalled that her youngest child was born premature and spent time in a neonatal unit - I thought her experience as a mother and RN might validate some of Nancy's thesis, because the book mentioned premature infants and children of disaster as similar subjects of separation trauma.
What she told me rocked me to my very core. She explained that friends suggested when her children turned three, that she ask them their earliest memories, because by that age they had developed language skills but had not yet begun school. On her older daughter's third birthday, she began asking about Abigail's previous birthday, then her first birthday, and finally asked about her earliest memories. Much to her surprise, Abby remembered being born at home, and her father being present, as well as a woman she didn't know - the midwife who attended the birth in rural Vermont!
When Lilliana, her youngest, turned three, she again regressed her memories. Lilly recalled intense heat and light - the incubator in the neonatal unit. She recalled her mother and father coming to see and hold her, but then they would leave even though she did not want them to. She also recalled a man with a loud voice counting numbers. I don't pretend to be a child psychologist, but it seems to me that she recalled the sounds and faces, and later as she learned that those sounds represented numbers and those faces were those of her parents, she was able to associate the memories with her later knowledge. The "man counting numbers" puzzled my sister in law, until her husband pointed out that with the premature birth, there was a male nurse calling out fetal oxygen levels.
Hearing her story completely reversed my thinking - just because I've forgotten where I filed my early memories does not mean that I was not aware and observant of what was happening. Those memories are still there somewhere, deep down and are the foundation for what I built my later memories and psyche upon. I immediately began reading Primal Wound again, this time without my innate skepticism.
Is a primal wound part of my personal story? Yes - once I admitted that to myself, the rest began to fall into place. My fear of abandonment which causes me to never quite trust in anyone else, my fear of losing contact with anyone I ever knew, my constant desire to please others and avoid conflict, all I believe trace back to that initial separation. My wife had a difficult time accepting the idea, until she recalled that moments after our daughter was born, our child was crying until my wife spoke, and our daughter immediately calmed and turned her head to look at her mother. For months afterward, my wife was frustrated because every time she was hungry, so was her child. What do you expect? Fetuses can sense circadian rythmns through the mother's body, know the times of day when their mother's blood sugar rises from eating, knows when the heartbeat slows for sleep - they know their mother's voice, heartbeat, scent - they are part of her.
A recurring message throughout the book is that adoption should be in the best interest of the child and not the adults, something that I think very few people would argue against. But should the adoptees feelings always trump everyone else's in the triad, even when that adoptee is a grown up?
Of course adoptees feelings should - because I'm an adoptee and I was spoiled!
Seriously, I don't believe that adoptees should always get their way - after all, we are trying to finally be adults, not children. As I read postings on forums by different members of the Triad, I continually see anger directed toward different sides of our interwoven relationships. I also see factions form, with nurturing parents pleading that only they be considered "real parents" while natural parents argue with them over who should take precedence, and both tug at adoptees wanting recognition. Meanwhile adoptees are urged to either defend their nurturing parents or be considered ungrateful for wanting to know their origins.
Enough! There is a solution if the parents would quit trying to "win." I acknowledge both my sets of parents - each made me part of who I am. I can find room in my heart to appreciate both. I am both kinds of parent to my own children - it has never been an issue for them or me. Society allows step parents and grandparents roles without demanding children take sides - can we who are even more intimately related not do the same?
Feelings are emotions, and we all must acknowledge that people's emotional reactions will differ. Does anyone's feelings ever trump another's? No! Can feelings change? Yes, but no amount of persuasion will ever change another person's feelings. Time may change them, or experience, but only if that person wishes to change them.
I am a male adoptee; that makes me twice crippled when it comes to emotions, I admit. Adoption brings out the deepest human feelings, ones which go back to our earliest experiences and the most powerful drive evolution instilled in us, the desire to continue one's DNA. No, I don't know how much it hurts to surrender a child - but I do know that it must be so painful that even after 60 years, my first parents cannot speak of it to me or their own families. No, I don't know what it is like to not be able to have children biologically, though I know it was so painful that my parents could never speak of it.
But my parents made that discovery as adults. And my first parents made their actions as young adults. As much as I might like to ease their burdens, I had no choice in the matter. It was not my decision to be conceived, born or placed in an orphanage for my first year. Nor was it my decision to pick my family.
Ultimately, we all do the best we can at any given time, under our circumstances. When an adoptee has feelings, even as an adult, which do not agree with what other Triad members would like, acknowledge and respect their feelings and accept that their feelings are the product of their nature and nurture at that point in time.
It was through Primal Wound that I first became aware of being a victim of adoption. That is an unpleasant feeling, and it has taken me over a year to work through that. But I refuse to stay a victim - and if that means I step on someone's feelings, I apologize. I don't hurt people just to see them suffer, I do what I have to do to regain my self-respect. My needs are different from my natural parents' just as they were different from my nurturing parents'. Most of us have grown up trying to please everyone around us, trying to stay in character as much as possible without provoking something which would cause us another abandonment - which often means hiding our feelings, either through emotional aloofness or anger. When conflicts arise between our different sets of parents, we don't ask to trump anyone, we just want to assert that our feelings be accorded the same status as yours.
.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
This request for comment from birthmothers is actually based on Nancy's book completely. In Chapter 13, The Reunion Process, she outlines what she sees as Barriers to Positive Relationships. I have fear, I have guilt, I have shame, I have rage, I have anger and I work constantly on not letting them dominate me. I have made much progress with guilt and with shame. Anger I am trying to just accept. Bottom line, I want myself back. I want to take back my power so that future relationships not only with my birthson but with my husband will not be grounded in the sandy soil of self doubt.I chose to answer this question even though I am an adoptee, not a firstparent. The barriers she speaks of apply to all members of the Triad! I too have had fear, guilt, shame, rage and anger and it has been hard to get past these symptoms of grief. It has affected my relationships with my nurturing family as well as my own spouse and children. The value of pondering Nancy's book has been that unlike the adult sides of the Triad, I never knew where my loss came from. Until only a few years ago, I was buffeted by these emotions as well, only I had no idea what drove them. Yes, I knew I was adopted from early childhood, but no one in my acquaintance ever suggested that there might be an underlying cause.
It took the near collapse of my marriage of over 30 years to cause me to seek help; fortunately my therapist picked up on my status as an adopted person at the start and asked if I had ever explored that issue. Of course I had not, even though my adoptive parents have been gone for years. This led to support groups and my introduction to the literature and an awareness of modern thought and studies of adoption, and eventually to Primal Wound. My reaction to the book was overpowering - I felt it was written for me by someone who knew my innermost thoughts!
We cannot begin repairing our lives until we know and acknowledge there is something wrong, and find the causes for our unhappiness. Fear, guilt, shame, rage and anger are all symptoms of unhappiness, reactions to grief. First parents may not understand for a time where the grief comes from, but they have the advantage of being adults (or at least past puberty) when their trauma occurs, as do nurturing parents. But we whose parents gave us their unconditional love, as Nancy gave her adopted daughter, still have difficulty accepting that love from lack of trust, fear of abandonment, all the reasons that Primal Wound suggested. Many natural and nurturing parents did not experience this trauma; those who had a normal biological infancy still find it hard to accept.
I agree that natural parents suffered a trauma connected to adoption, but the focus of the book is not on their trauma for it is usually a different one (except for that large cohort of female adoptees who become first parents.
The value of Nancy's book to me was in identifying the source of my grief. That's a necessary step, but I have just begun Coming Home to Self because after reading Primal Wound three times over the past 18 months, I'm ready to move beyond grief to healing myself.
As a birthmother, my overwhelming stance towards this book was, (until completion that is) very defensive. It hurt to have to read about the pain I've inflicted upon my daughter, and my initial reaction was to criticize the book's thesis and deny that any part of it could be found in my personal story. Did others (adoptive parents, adoptees and birthparents alike) have this same reaction? If so, was your opinion changed by the end of the book?
I'll answer this question because of a specific example in my own life. The first time I read Primal Wound almost two years ago, I found the thesis thought-provoking but could not really accept it; I had after all spent over 50 years believing in the "win-win" model of adoption that is socially accepted, never questioning the myths. After all, despite my excellent memory, I had no recollection of my earliest childhood, even of my year in an orphanage before adoption, so it all seemed hypothetical to me.
My sister-in-law happened to phone soon after I had finished the book, and on a whim I asked to speak to her because I recalled that her youngest child was born premature and spent time in a neonatal unit - I thought her experience as a mother and RN might validate some of Nancy's thesis, because the book mentioned premature infants and children of disaster as similar subjects of separation trauma.
What she told me rocked me to my very core. She explained that friends suggested when her children turned three, that she ask them their earliest memories, because by that age they had developed language skills but had not yet begun school. On her older daughter's third birthday, she began asking about Abigail's previous birthday, then her first birthday, and finally asked about her earliest memories. Much to her surprise, Abby remembered being born at home, and her father being present, as well as a woman she didn't know - the midwife who attended the birth in rural Vermont!
When Lilliana, her youngest, turned three, she again regressed her memories. Lilly recalled intense heat and light - the incubator in the neonatal unit. She recalled her mother and father coming to see and hold her, but then they would leave even though she did not want them to. She also recalled a man with a loud voice counting numbers. I don't pretend to be a child psychologist, but it seems to me that she recalled the sounds and faces, and later as she learned that those sounds represented numbers and those faces were those of her parents, she was able to associate the memories with her later knowledge. The "man counting numbers" puzzled my sister in law, until her husband pointed out that with the premature birth, there was a male nurse calling out fetal oxygen levels.
Hearing her story completely reversed my thinking - just because I've forgotten where I filed my early memories does not mean that I was not aware and observant of what was happening. Those memories are still there somewhere, deep down and are the foundation for what I built my later memories and psyche upon. I immediately began reading Primal Wound again, this time without my innate skepticism.
Is a primal wound part of my personal story? Yes - once I admitted that to myself, the rest began to fall into place. My fear of abandonment which causes me to never quite trust in anyone else, my fear of losing contact with anyone I ever knew, my constant desire to please others and avoid conflict, all I believe trace back to that initial separation. My wife had a difficult time accepting the idea, until she recalled that moments after our daughter was born, our child was crying until my wife spoke, and our daughter immediately calmed and turned her head to look at her mother. For months afterward, my wife was frustrated because every time she was hungry, so was her child. What do you expect? Fetuses can sense circadian rythmns through the mother's body, know the times of day when their mother's blood sugar rises from eating, knows when the heartbeat slows for sleep - they know their mother's voice, heartbeat, scent - they are part of her.
A recurring message throughout the book is that adoption should be in the best interest of the child and not the adults, something that I think very few people would argue against. But should the adoptees feelings always trump everyone else's in the triad, even when that adoptee is a grown up?
Seriously, I don't believe that adoptees should always get their way - after all, we are trying to finally be adults, not children. As I read postings on forums by different members of the Triad, I continually see anger directed toward different sides of our interwoven relationships. I also see factions form, with nurturing parents pleading that only they be considered "real parents" while natural parents argue with them over who should take precedence, and both tug at adoptees wanting recognition. Meanwhile adoptees are urged to either defend their nurturing parents or be considered ungrateful for wanting to know their origins.
Enough! There is a solution if the parents would quit trying to "win." I acknowledge both my sets of parents - each made me part of who I am. I can find room in my heart to appreciate both. I am both kinds of parent to my own children - it has never been an issue for them or me. Society allows step parents and grandparents roles without demanding children take sides - can we who are even more intimately related not do the same?
Feelings are emotions, and we all must acknowledge that people's emotional reactions will differ. Does anyone's feelings ever trump another's? No! Can feelings change? Yes, but no amount of persuasion will ever change another person's feelings. Time may change them, or experience, but only if that person wishes to change them.
I am a male adoptee; that makes me twice crippled when it comes to emotions, I admit. Adoption brings out the deepest human feelings, ones which go back to our earliest experiences and the most powerful drive evolution instilled in us, the desire to continue one's DNA. No, I don't know how much it hurts to surrender a child - but I do know that it must be so painful that even after 60 years, my first parents cannot speak of it to me or their own families. No, I don't know what it is like to not be able to have children biologically, though I know it was so painful that my parents could never speak of it.
But my parents made that discovery as adults. And my first parents made their actions as young adults. As much as I might like to ease their burdens, I had no choice in the matter. It was not my decision to be conceived, born or placed in an orphanage for my first year. Nor was it my decision to pick my family.
Ultimately, we all do the best we can at any given time, under our circumstances. When an adoptee has feelings, even as an adult, which do not agree with what other Triad members would like, acknowledge and respect their feelings and accept that their feelings are the product of their nature and nurture at that point in time.
It was through Primal Wound that I first became aware of being a victim of adoption. That is an unpleasant feeling, and it has taken me over a year to work through that. But I refuse to stay a victim - and if that means I step on someone's feelings, I apologize. I don't hurt people just to see them suffer, I do what I have to do to regain my self-respect. My needs are different from my natural parents' just as they were different from my nurturing parents'. Most of us have grown up trying to please everyone around us, trying to stay in character as much as possible without provoking something which would cause us another abandonment - which often means hiding our feelings, either through emotional aloofness or anger. When conflicts arise between our different sets of parents, we don't ask to trump anyone, we just want to assert that our feelings be accorded the same status as yours.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at The Open Adoption Examiner.
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